Chapter 2: The Awakening of Lysandra

Evening fell, and Lysandra retreated to the small room she shared with Saren. As she prepared for bed, Saren slipped in, quickly closing the door behind her.

"You won't believe what I've heard," Saren whispered. "Theron canceled two important meetings today. The steward said he was 'indisposed,' but I overheard the truth from his valet. He spent hours asking questions about you, where you came from, how long you've been here. He's never shown interest in a servant's background before."

Lysandra sat heavily on her thin mattress. "This can't be happening."

"What exactly happened last night, Lys?" Saren's face was serious in the candlelight. "I've never seen a man's attitude change so completely."

Before Lysandra could answer, exhaustion overwhelmed her. She fell back onto her bed, darkness claiming her consciousness.

In her dreams, she stood in a strange garden unlike any in the Blackwood estate. Moonflowers bloomed around her, their white petals glowing under a star-filled sky. Before her appeared a woman whose features seemed to constantly shift, sometimes young and beautiful, sometimes ageless and wise.

"You called for help, child," the woman said, her voice resonating like distant bells. "And I have answered."

"Who are you?" Lysandra asked, though somehow she already knew.

"I am Velmira. Once worshipped throughout these lands, now remembered only in whispers." The goddess circled Lysandra, her flowing robes leaving trails of stardust. "I have given you a gift, the power to bend men's will through intimacy."

"What do you mean?"

"The man who violated you is now bound to your influence. His desires are reshaping themselves around you. With each man you share yourself with, you will gain another follower, another worshipper." Velmira's eyes gleamed. "Some will become devoted, others obsessed. A few may even be driven to madness by their desire for you. You, with the power of a goddess, command all, even the spark of life itself. Pregnancy is yours to grant, or to deny."

Fear and wonder mingled in Lysandra's heart. "Why me? Why now?"

"Because you have suffered enough, and because the time for change approaches." Velmira cupped Lysandra's face. "Use this gift wisely, child. Power without compassion leads only to destruction. Remember that even as men fall under your spell, they remain men, with all their flaws and virtues."

"How do I control it?" Lysandra asked, feeling both terrified and exhilarated.

"You will learn." The goddess's smile held secrets. "But know this, there are some who will remain immune to your power. Those born under the eclipse of my sister star cannot be swayed by your influence. They will be both your greatest challenge and, perhaps, your salvation."

As the dream began to fade, Velmira whispered one last warning: "Beware the woman who once served me and then turned away. She will recognize my touch upon you, and she will fear it."

Lysandra woke with a gasp to find Saren shaking her shoulder.

"You were glowing," Saren whispered, her eyes wide. "Actually glowing! Your skin was shimmering with light."

Lysandra sat up, her mind reeling to process the dream, no, the visitation. She looked at her hands, which now appeared normal, though she could still feel a warm energy coursing beneath her skin.

"Saren," she said slowly, "I think I've been blessed by Velmira."

Saren's hand flew to her mouth. "The forgotten goddess? The one the old women still pray to in secret?"

Lysandra nodded, then quietly explained her dream. When she finished, Saren sat in stunned silence.

"So Theron is... what? Under your control now?" Saren finally asked.

"Not control exactly. But his desires, his focus, they've shifted toward me." Lysandra tried to understand it herself. "The goddess said each man would respond differently."

"This is dangerous, Lys." Saren gripped her friend's hand. "If Lady Ravenna suspects anything…"

A knock at their door cut her off. They froze, exchanging alarmed glances. No one ever disturbed the servants' quarters after hours.

"Lysandra?" It was Theron's voice, unusually hesitant. "I need to speak with you."

Saren's eyes widened in panic. "He's never come to the servants' wing before!"

Lysandra rose shakily. "Hide in the wardrobe. I'll handle this."

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door just enough to peer out. Theron stood alone in the hallway, looking disheveled, his expensive tunic wrinkled, his hair unkempt.

"My master," she said formally, keeping her voice steady. "How may I serve you at this late hour?"

"I couldn't sleep," he confessed, his voice hoarse. "I kept thinking about you. About this morning... Something's happening to me, and I don't understand it."

Lysandra stepped into the hallway, pulling the door nearly closed behind her to protect Saren from view. "Perhaps you're simply tired, master. The trade negotiations have been stressful."

"No, it's more than that." His hand reached for her face, then stopped, hovering uncertainly. "I've never noticed before how remarkable you are. Your eyes... they're like amber in sunlight."

The power that Velmira had described stirred within her. She could feel it now, a connection between them, like invisible threads pulling Theron toward her.

"You should return to Lady Ravenna," Lysandra said softly. "People will talk if you're found here."

"I don't care." Yet even as he said it, doubt crossed his features, the merchant's calculated self-preservation battling against this new compulsion.

Experimentally, Lysandra reached out and touched his hand. "Go back to your chambers. Rest. We can speak tomorrow."

The effect was immediate. His expression cleared, and he nodded. "Yes... tomorrow. We'll speak privately." He turned to leave, then paused. "Lysandra... has anyone ever mistreated you here? In my household?"

The irony of his question might have made her laugh if she weren't so afraid. "I am well, master. Please, get some rest."

As Theron disappeared down the corridor, Lysandra slipped back into the room. Saren emerged from the wardrobe, her face pale.

"Gods above," Saren breathed. "It's real. Your power, it's real!"

Lysandra sank onto her bed, overwhelmed. "What am I going to do, Saren? If Lady Ravenna discovers this…"

"We use it," Saren said, surprising Lysandra with her suddenness. "You've spent three years being controlled by these people. Maybe it's time they answered to you."

Lysandra recalled Velmira's warning about using power without compassion. "I don't know if I should…"

"Think about it, Lys. With Theron under your influence, we could improve conditions for all the servants. We could help others like us." Saren's eyes gleamed with possibility. "This could be our chance for something better."

As they whispered late into the night, planning and wondering, neither noticed the shadow that passed briefly across their small window, nor heard the soft footsteps retreating down the hallway. Someone had been listening, someone who had seen Theron's unprecedented visit to the servants' quarters.

In her lavish chambers across the estate, Ravenna stood at her window, watching the moon bathe the garden in silver light. Something had changed in her household, she could feel it. After years of managing her precarious position as Theron's wife, she had developed a sixth sense for threats.

Today, that sense was screaming.